Arrivals.
“Here comes papa!” cried Anna, as she rose from the breakfast-table,
“and a gentleman with him! Can it be Mr. Fletcher already?”
“O, no!” said Mary; “how should it be, without Mrs. Fletcher and their
daughters? He is coming in, however. I do hope it is not a political
person. I had rather hear any thing than politics from London people.”
Anna agreed that they had quite enough of politics every day of their
lives, without hearing more from strangers. When their new guest entered
the room, Mr. Byerley introduced him to his daughters as Signor Casimiro
Elvi. He did not at all answer to Mary and Anna’s notions of a
politician, as they assured one another by a glance of congratulation.
If he had been twenty-five years younger, he might have been taken for a
poet; and though he was too old for that, he might well be supposed a
great man of some kind or other; for he had a profusion of black hair,
curling back from his prominent forehead in a manner which is uncommon
among Englishmen. His countenance was bright with intelligence, but
mild, and sometimes deeply melancholy. The girls answered his greetings,
which were those of a foreigner, with much respect; and while they
prepared a fresh breakfast, wondered what topics of conversation would
succeed the usual hopes and fears about fatigue, and invitations to eat
and drink.
“As we were saying, sir,” observed their father at length, “if we cannot
induce the minister to regard public opinion when it is so plainly
expressed as in this case, what is to be done but to petition, and
petition again, till the House forces the matter upon his attention?”
To the great disappointment of the girls, the Italian gentleman
listened, not only with politeness, but with eager interest, and replied
with such animated volubility, as to leave no doubt of his being a
politician after all. They could not make out much of what he said,
though they understood French very well; but his rapid utterance did not
prevent their discovering that he spoke of the ruin of his own country
as owing to the obstinate disregard which a despotic government had
shown to the interests of the people, and the establishment at length of
a military government, to the destruction of all freedom and peace. Anna
was soon tired of stretching her attention to listen to what did not
interest her to hear, and she therefore slipped out of the room. Mary
was obliged to remain, to pour out the tea; and presently, as soon as
there was a sufficient pause, Signor Elvi addressed her in French, which
it appeared he always spoke, though he understood English pretty well.
Mary liked all he said; and he gave so entertaining an account of his
late perilous journey across the continent, that she was quite sorry
when her father refused a fourth cup of tea, and it became necessary to
offer to the Signor the refreshment of his own apartment.
She ran to find her sister, and relate all that she had heard. The story
was interspersed with many remarks on Signor Elvi, and many conjectures
respecting his rank and circumstances, which excited Anna’s active
imagination to an unusual degree; and by the time Mr. Fletcher’s
carriage drove up to the door, her mind was so occupied with the
adventures of the Italian gentleman, that she could think of nothing
else.
Mary looked anxiously to see if there were any young faces in the
carriage. That the Miss Fletcher’s were there, there was evidence in the
straw bonnets and pink ribbons which appeared when the glass was let
down; and the young ladies had no sooner alighted, than Mary and Anna
had decided that they might become very charming companions, and perhaps
friends for life. Even Mr. Byerley wished that the appearance of his
daughters was equally prepossessing, both as to countenance and dress.
Mr. Fletcher was as remarkably decided in manner and abrupt in speech;
as his lady was soft and mild. It seemed as if he was somewhat out of
patience with the tone of sentiment which distinguished his wife’s
conversation, and had therefore run into the other extreme. His
daughters, who much resembled their mother, stood so much in awe of him,
that they spoke as little as possible in his presence, so that he
probably knew much less about what was in their minds than many
comparative strangers; but he concluded them to be weak and romantic, as
he was pleased to say women in general were; and by thus concluding, he
adopted the most likely method of rendering them so. The Byerleys, of
course, knew nothing of all this; and as they were in the habit of
opening their minds freely to their father, they were very slow in
making the discovery that a similar degree of confidence did not prevail
in all families.
Soon after their arrival, Anna was sitting near Mr. Fletcher and his
daughter Selina, who appeared about her own age. Amidst the many
enquiries which she made of Selina about the journey and other subjects
of discourse, she looked perpetually to the door, in hopes that Signor
Elvi would enter. When there had been a short pause, she said: “There is
such an interesting gentleman here now! I am glad you will see him, and
hear his adventures.”
“Adventures!” said Selina: “oh! what adventures?”
“Oh! so interesting! He had to fly for his life, and to put on a
disguise; and he has been shipwrecked.”
“Delightful! Did he tell you about it himself?”
“He told my father and sister when I was out of the room; but I dare say
my father will draw him out again; and we must take care to be in the
way.”
“Certainly; one would not miss such an opportunity for the world. But
what is his name, and where does he come from?”
“His name is Casimiro Elvi, and he comes from Italy.”
“From Italy! the very country one would guess, to be sure.”
“Pray, why?” asked Mr. Fletcher, who had overheard the whole. “Does
nobody put on a disguise, is nobody shipwrecked, that does not come from
Italy?”
Selina made no attempt at an answer, which surprised Anna, who said, she
supposed Selina meant that the refugees, of whose misfortunes we hear so
much, were generally from Italy; and that she therefore concluded Signor
Elvi to be an Italian.
“Find out what she means if you can,” said Mr. Fletcher, as he turned
his back upon them both.
“Tell me the rest when we go to take off our bonnets,” said Selina, in a
whisper.
“Let us go now then,” said Anna, “unless you would like some more cake
first.”
Selina refused the cake, and they moved towards the door; but as Anna
put her hand on the lock, Signor Elvi entered. The girls delayed a
moment to see how gracefully he paid his respects to the strangers, and
then looking at one another for consent, they returned to their seats.
“Does Mr. Fletcher understand French?” enquired Anna, at the end of half
an hour, during which every body had conversed with the stranger but Mr.
Fletcher.
“Yes,” replied Selina; “but my father does not like foreigners
generally. There is an Italian gentleman in our neighbourhood, who
brought letters of introduction to my father; but we can only ask him
when papa is out, or when we have company, because papa never speaks to
him.”
“What can be his reason?” asked Anna.
Selina shook her head, and Anna sat in a reverie, till she saw the
ladies about to leave the room. She was made very uneasy by what she had
seen and heard. She was sure that there must be something wrong, to
occasion so strange a want of sympathy among members of the same family;
and she began to be afraid that she might not like Selina so well as she
at first thought she should. She hoped that their guests would wish to
be left to themselves when they entered their own apartments, that she
might consult Mary, and learn the result of her observations. But the
Miss Fletchers said, “Don’t go;” and Mary seemed quite inclined to stay,
having ascertained that Mrs. Fletcher’s maid was in attendance on her
mistress.
Dressing went on slowly; for there were frequent and long pauses, during
which Selina stood with the comb suspended, and her sister Rose with the
key unturned in the lock of her trunk, while they talked of many things.
When they descended to the drawing-room, Anna wondered whether the same
restraint was to be imposed by Mrs. Fletcher’s presence as by her
husband’s. To her great relief, the girls showed at once that they had
no reserves with their mother. They made her rest on the sofa, as she
was in delicate health, and somewhat tired with her journey. The four
girls then gathered round her, and held what Anna thought the most
delightful conversation she had almost ever enjoyed. She was quite sorry
when dinner-time approached, and the gentlemen dropped in, one by one,
and engaged Mrs. Fletcher’s attention.
When Selina and Anna walked in to dinner behind the rest of the party,
they lamented that they could not sit together. At the bottom of the
table they exchanged a squeeze of the hand at parting, and took their
places on each side of Mr. Byerley, preparing to keep up an intercourse
of glances if any thing interesting should be said about Italy.
Italy was not once mentioned while the ladies were at table; but Signor
Elvi was not therefore silent. He talked on almost every subject which
was introduced; sometimes seeking, and sometimes communicating
information. His observations on the effects which followed the repeal
of the silk duties of England on the trade of Lyons interested even Mr.
Fletcher; and he also explained, entirely to that gentleman’s
satisfaction, a new method of draining marshes, which he had seen
practised abroad. All this a little disappointed Anna, who had rather
have seen him sit abstracted, unless patriotism and misfortune were
talked about.
In the course of the evening, Mary found an opportunity of learning from
her father a few particulars about the stranger. Mr. Byerley only knew
that he had left a wife and large family in his own country; that he had
filled a very high political station; and that, by his exertions in that
station in the cause of liberty, he was rendered peculiarly obnoxious to
the usurping government. Sentence of death for high treason had been
issued against him, and he had not the remotest prospect of being able
to return to his own land, and to all that was dear to him there.
The party broke up at an early hour, as the travellers were somewhat
fatigued, and as great exertions were to be made the next day. The
horses and carriage were to be at the door at eight o’clock; for much
was to be seen at Audley Bridge, and no day was ever long enough, as
every body knows, to fulfil all the purposes of such an expedition.
When Rose Fletcher had been asked whether she preferred riding, or a
place in the carriage, she at once declared that she liked riding above
every thing; but that her habit was at the bottom of the large trunk,
which had gone on to London. This was not allowed to be a difficulty, as
Mary’s habit was found to fit her sufficiently well to serve for the
occasion. Rose and Anna were therefore to ride with Mr. Byerley and
either Mr. Fletcher or Signor Elvi, as those gentlemen should determine
between themselves.
“Well, Mary,” said Anna, as she shut the door of her chamber.
“Well, Anna,” said her sister, as she put down the candle on the
dressing-table.
“What a pleasant day we have had!” exclaimed the one.
“How unlike one another people are, to be sure!” observed the other.
“Mr. Fletcher and the Signor, for instance. I can’t endure Mr.
Fletcher.”
“Why not?” said Mary, surprised: “he is silent sometimes, certainly; but
when he does talk, he says such very clever things, that they are worth
waiting for. Do you know, I am not sure but that I like him better than
Mrs. Fletcher.”
“Oh, Mary! impossible! She is such a dear, kind lady; and he is so
cross, I dare not speak to him.”
“Indeed!” said Mary; “then you must have heard or seen something that I
did not.”
“Nay, Mary; I heard him tell you that he gave it in charge to you to
cure Selina of her way of speaking.”
“I do not think he was cross when he said that. It was rather odd,
perhaps, so short as our acquaintance is; but Selina really does whine
very much; and strangers are more aware of it, and can put her in mind
of it oftener than those who are accustomed to hear it. Besides, Mrs.
Fletcher has a good deal of it herself, and Rose too.”
“Well, but he was so prejudiced against the Signor.”
“Was he? I thought they seemed to like talking to one another.”
“Aye, afterwards; but you have no idea how very rudely he spoke at
first.” So Anna told what had happened just after their arrival. Mary
owned that he had been wrong; but would not agree that there was no
merit in his politeness afterwards, because it must all be ascribed to
the Signor’s irresistible attractions. Yet she liked Signor Elvi quite
as well as Anna did.
Their younger guests were then discussed; honourable mention being made
of a large variety of fine qualities. In this case, neither sister
exceeded the other; for the praise of both was superlative. Beginning
with their hair, and ending with their sentiments, it was found that
they were altogether delightful.
“Upon the whole, Mary, has the day been what you expected, what you
wished for?”
“In some things, much pleasanter; but——and yet it was hardly likely
that, the very first day, any opportunity should happen for talking
about——what we want Mrs. Fletcher to talk to us about.”
“Whenever she does, it will be in a way that we shall like, I know,”
said Anna.
“How can you know? Mamma has not been mentioned to-day, nor any subject
of that kind.”
“Not of that kind exactly,” said Anna; “and yet I am quite sure of it.
Selina asked me if there was a church-yard in Audley Park, or within
sight of it; and she said, that if she had a fine estate, she would take
care to have a church-yard within sight. I said, I supposed she meant
for the same reason that some grand prince, I forget who, had a man to
put him in mind every day that he must die. Then she began telling me
about a mausoleum in the Duke of D——’s park; but her mother looked at
her, and she stopped just when she had said that the duchess was buried
there. She was going to mention the duchess’s children, I know, when
Mrs. Fletcher put her in mind that we had no mother. She is a kind,
sweet woman; and I love her dearly already.”
“It would be very strange if we did not,” said Mary, “considering whose
friend she was before we were born.”
Mary had now opened her Bible, and they read together, as they always
did at night, when any thing had prevented their reading with their
father below. It was very late, and Mr. Byerley had been some time in
vain trying to sleep. The conversation in the next room disturbed him;
and the continued murmur while Mary read, made him suppose that they
were not yet thinking of sleep. He rose and tapped at their door. “Who
is there? Is it you, papa?” said Anna, opening the door. When Mr.
Byerley saw the closing book in Mary’s hand, he gave his blessing to his
children, and advised them to seek repose. Their minds, as they composed
themselves to rest, were full of thankfulness for the new pleasures of
companionship which the day had brought them; and Anna began, for the
first time, to be aware of the blessing of having a father whom she
could love without fearing in any painful degree.